HUNTING THE GIANT RIVER PATIN

This article was published in the April 2001 issue of Rod And Line fishing magazine.

The gang with our three patins

      Five times! Yes F.I.V.E. That was the number of times I came back empty handed from my patin fishing trips. If not for those photographs of giants shown to me by Gurdip (the patins) Singh, I would not be so persistent. Hunting the elusive giants was never easy. Every trip was, torturous, especially on this out-of-condition 50-plus fisho.

Gurdip (the patin) Singh with his 27 kilo giant caught in june'99.

     This sixth trip was no different. We started off at 6.00am in Roger's (a.k.a Jackson) van. Before I proceed any further I think I owe everyone an explanation. Roger (his actual name) was mentioned as Jackson in my "Of Wild Boar and Haruan Country" article in the July 2000 issue of Rod and Line. I know him as Roger. Fished with him as Roger. Joked with him as Roger. When it came to typing his name in my computer he became Jackson. Please blame it on Murphy. Even though my "a thousand apologies" were accepted, I still was wary of him because accidents do happen, especially when the river swollen, you know.

     Turning off the Kampung Gajah trunk road, we were tossed and rocked from left to right as though riding on an elephant. Three times we had to get down to push the van out of the many potholes dotting the jungle road. It was real hard work, as we had to rock the van forward and backward to gain momentum for Roger to drive it out of the mud traps. If you were stupid enough to push from the back of the van, don't be surprised if a horny, on-heat female buffalo made a pass at you.

A shallower part of the swamp. Still trying to find some time to fish for the bujuks and haruans that live here.

     At the end of this 10 kilometers of jungle track trip, we unloaded our gears and plunged into the swamp. Walking single file, we plodded and stumbled through this smelly weed covered swamp into the jungle. Gurdip was leading (parang in hand) with Roger bringing up the rear. As we didn't like the idea of one of us ending in some slithery creatures' stomachs, we kept on doing mental head counts. Dodging the many thorny vines criss-crossing all over the place, we trudged wearily along, The sharp thorns could inflict very painful tears on our flesh if we were not careful. Stopping once in a while to get our bearings right, we noticed that many trees bored marks of the wild boars rubbing their mud caked bodies against the trunks. This sure was a hunter's paradise.

This was the scenario where we had to get down to push the van. Sometimes, we had to rock the van forward and backward to gain momentum for Roger to drive it out of the mud traps.

     About half an hour of zig-zagging through the jungle, we lost our way and stumbled upon a clearing with a strange looking structure. All sorts of theories were put forward as explanations, as we had never seen such such a thing before. Ganesan said it could be some illegal immigrants inviting the spirits of their ancestors to Malaysia. Someone suggested that it was a place for housing toyols (small mischievous spirits purportedly kept by some people ). It looked more like burial ground to me.

Roger standing next to this strange structure. Anyone can throw some lights on it?

   

Gurdip showing Cheong the place where the wild boars rubbed against the tree trunk. Cheong was trying to do a video recording of one of our patin fishing trips.

Gurdip offering some niceties to the resident spirits during one of our trips.

 

   While taking phonographs of it, my hair began standing on ends, and I felt like being watched. Looking up after packing my camera in record time, I realised the rest of the gangs were no where to be seen. In my haste to get away from there, I almost bulldozed the whole jungle down.

     We somehow found our way to the fishing spot. As usual Gurdip spread out some offerings to the spirits that might be dwelling there. When in the jungle, no matter how non-superstitious you were, it was wiser not to take any chances. Many strange things have befallen a few unbelieving souls of which there was no reasonable explanations.

     Settling down at one spot where the current seemed to be flowing slower, I made a clearing in the tall grass. Of course, a lot of them were left standing so as to camouflage me from the patins. Moving around was done in slow motion and every step was taken with as little noise and vibration as possible. The patins were very sensitive and could detect any unfamiliar sound and vibration easily. Don't forget too that this was my sixth trip. I was desperate to at least land one. If doing the American Rain Dance could help me I would have done it.

     Our quarries are mainly vegetarians. Fruits like buah ara, banana and even durian seeds are relished by them. The star fruit that I used were diced and strung on to the leader like satays. Casting out this whole bunch must be done gently as the baits could be torn away by the force.

     After casting, I settled down to wait. It was funny thought, for while being alone, every little sound from the jungle behind sounded like some monsters slowly stalking me. Not forgetting the strange structure tat the toyols lived. The nagging itch between my toes felt like the unbearable forty years itch. By the time I realised what was happening, that bloated up leech was burping happily with toothpick in its mouth. Revenge was sweet and satisfying though. I never realised I has such a sadistic streak in me. Hope I didn't blotched up my karma.

     From the corner of my eyes, I noticed my rod quivering slightly. When it bent a second time I struck. My old faithful Cardinals 55 screamed from the pressure been applied by the mad patin. My main concerns was whether the 15lb line could take the punishment when the fish headed downstream with the help of the swift current. The giant was having the upper hand. Suddenly it swerved to my side of the bank. Cranking like mad to keep my line tight, I was praying hard that the patin would not gain the safety of the sunken tree branches.

     Lady luck was smiling on me as it headed out to the centre of the river again. Pumping and cranking, I slowly gain and lost line. After what seemed like hours, I felt the fish slowly giving way. Ganesan was beside me waiting to gaff the fish. My heart sank when I noticed the gaff in his hand. In our haste, we forgot to bring along the gaff. Gurdip had improvised one by tying a trebled hook to a tree branch. When Ganesan lifted the fish, the gaff tore out. Luckily my fish stayed hook. He made no mistake this time.

Yours truly holding up my 10 kilo patin.

     We all estimated it to be about 10 kilos. Before I could settled down again, Gurdip was heard blabbering excitedly about twenty meters up stream. Later I found out that his hook broke and he lost that fish. Ganesan lost one too through an opened snap. What luck!

     Suddenly, my rod almost toppled into the river. Grabbing it in my haste, my hand was cut by the fast disappearing line ( I grabbed the fishing line as well). This fellow shot out to the center before bulldozing down the river. Pumping hard, I had it near the bank three times before losing line again. After the third run down river, it stayed in the middle of the river and we stalemated. Fearing that the fish would regain its strength, I kept on applying pressure. Suddenly it headed up river and I knew I had it licked. By the times the exhausted fish was ready to be gaff, I requested Segar to hook its mouth as I intend to release it later.

Suddenly, the fish lunged and my line parted. The barb of the treble cum gaff sliced through it. Poor Segar was looking as though he had lost the crown jewel. Even though I assured him it was not his fault, I still noticed him keeping a wide berth from me. Maybe, he was also thinking that accidents do happen especially when the river is swollen. This fish was estimated to be bigger than the one I landed , maybe 15 kilos. Well, the one that got away is always bigger.

Another giant caught in April'99. Now you know why he is called Gurdip (the patin) Singh.

     Gurdip and Ganesan managed to make up for their lost fish by landing a 7 kilo and 8 kilo patin each. Poor Roger was without any patin again for the sixth time. I had being teasing him about teaching us how to dance the Haka the Maori war dance), since we came back empty handed the third time ,with no response from him. On the way back, he was subtly telling us the formation, timing and method of sticking out our tongues for the Haka dance.